


Simple Pleasures

by svvords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2k+ words, Cuddling, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Gen, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, SPN - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, borderline wincest, not explicit, pg13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2359703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svvords/pseuds/svvords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A witch’s curse makes Sam and Dean take part in a cuddling session that would put the Care Bears to shame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place somewhere after 4.16 (damn, that was a while ago : P)
> 
> WARNING- borderline wincest (depending on who’s reading it of course)!. No worries though, it’s not explicit. Seriously, they don’t even kiss

“Fucking witches man, I swear, just buy some cats and call it a day” Dean remarked shutting the trunk of the Impala closed, duffel bag at hand.

They’d just come back from a hunting trip, one of the many wild goose chases they’d been following since Dean had gotten out of hell and the first seal had been broken. This time, it was a goddamn witch in Tennessee with a knack for throwing things and screaming expletives and hexes at them.

Now they were going to check in to some budget motel they’d found on the edge of town, lick their wounds, and crash in for the night.

All in all, not so bad.

“Dude, it could’ve been worse, she could’ve turned you into a whiny little brat.” Sam snickered, flinging his bag over his shoulder, following his brother’s lead into one of the many seedy motels he’s had the pleasure of living in.

“Yeah, haha, little bro, real funny” Dean responded in a sarcastic tone, lightly jarring Sam’s arm with his fist.

They hadn’t been having the best of days recently, especially with the blood drinking and the angels trying to expand the growing rift between them. It was hard to pretend like everything was ok and keep plundering on like they always do, especially now.

Things between them have been tense at best and downright hostile at worst, but tonight they were joking around with each other. Which was weird, particularly with how the shit was hitting the fan right now, but not unwelcome. By the time they cleaned up and got their stuff in order, two hours had passed. Now they were sitting on their beds, facing one another, talking to one another. They hadn’t done that in so long; with it being deemed chick- flicky or _no big deal so shut your pie hole, Sammy_

And damn it, with the whole world about to end it felt nice to finally be doing this.

“You know what, we should take a vacation” Dean declared, grabbing two beer bottles from the mini fridge in the corner of the grotesquely lotus themed room. He threw one at Sam, who caught it swiftly and single handedly.

“Really?” Sam inquired dubiously, popping the lid off with his hand “I didn’t even know you knew that word” Sam smiled around the bottles lips and took a gulp, feeling the amber liquid burn a path down his throat.

“Dude, I’m serious,” Dean said plopping down on the bed adjacent from Sam’s, taking a long swig from his bottle “we could go to the Grand Canyon”

Sam spluttered into his bottle and gave a little cough around the liquid he had just accidentally inhaled. He wiped his mouth with his wrist before responding, “You’re serious.” he said, voice raw from choking on the alcohol, “Dude, you know we can’t…not now, with all of the angels and demons trying to jump our skins”

He could practically feel the dejected look on Dean’s face before it even got there. Damn it, things were going so well too, now Dean would shut down and go all tough guy again. Why couldn’t he just hold a decent conversation with his brother for once?

But before he could be completely turned away, Dean’s other, other cell phone rang from the duffle bag on the chair situated near the table on the other side of the room. Bobby had probably found another lead.

“I’ll get it” Dean said placing the half empty beer bottle on the bedside table, already on his feet heading for his abandoned duffle. Sam jumped to his feet off the flimsy mattress of his bed, heading towards Dean“No, I can-“

And suddenly he was falling. One second he was upright and the next, his eyes were shut tight out of reflex as he felt himself give in to the pull of gravity. He hadn’t fallen since he had gone through puberty; his gangly, awkward limbs always getting in the way when he didn’t want them to. It had been embarrassing then and it was twice as embarrassing now. He was a badass hunter for Christ’s sake; he killed the monsters under the bed for a living and now he was tripping over his own two feet. Dean would never let him hear the end of this.

Surprisingly, the ground stopped rushing up to meet his face. Instead, he found his tall frame half supported by two strong, sturdy arms. The same arms, he remembered, that would keep him from falling over as a kid. The same arms that after he fell over, would pick him back up again and be followed by some light teasing on how much of a klutz he was. The same arms, he thought fondly, that would wrap around his young body in the middle of the night after he had experienced some night terror.

God, had he missed that.

The phone had stopped ringing and the room was enveloped in a thick silence as he was just held there for a few seconds. But as soon as it happened, it ended and the silence was broken by Dean’s angry tone.

“What the hell, Sammy?!” Dean said pulling away from him, both hands relinquishing their spot under Sam’s arms to rest firmly on his shoulders. “I didn’t know you were that much of a light weight, you only had one drink…”

Ignoring his brother’s accusations, Sam looks over his shoulder, still panting from the adrenaline rush and the sudden clarity nearly falling flat on his face had given him, and sees his duffel near the foot of his bed. It was toppled over with the few articles of clothing he owned strewn across the floor. He didn’t remember leaving his duffel there he thought hazily. In fact, now that he really thought about it, his brain was felt as if a film fog was embracing it and his head felt like an anvil was balanced on top of it. As if he had had a few shots of tequila instead of one bottle of beer.

To be totally honest, the night’s events had also been off kilter. All things considered, the last thing they usually did when they moved into another motel for a night or two was talk, much less about taking a vacation. With the fate of the world resting on their shoulders, they usually just sat in silence researching or watching TV and acknowledging each other’s presence every couple of hours when one of them was going out on a food run or to meet up with a hot date at a bar. This wasn’t normal and that kind of freaked Sam out. He had had his fair share of abnormalities in life.

Looking back towards Dean, he was going to voice his concerns but stopped dead at the sight of a big grin plastered on Dean’s face that hadn’t been there two seconds ago.

“You know what would be great…?” Dean trailed off, big dopey grin on his face. His hand was still a heavy presence on Sam’s shoulder. It was warm, but not overbearingly so, Sam was beginning to realize. In fact, it was nice; a stark contrast to his brother’s usual “talk first, shoot later” attitude. It just made him want to hug him even more. Wait a second…

“What?” Sam asked hesitantly. He was confused. On one hand, he wanted to push his brother away for being such a freak but that desire was slowly being squashed down by the burning need to just hold Dean tight against his chest and never let go. Unconsciously shuffling his feet closer to Dean, he felt the rest of his doubts fluttering away with every fraction of a step he took closer to Dean. The sudden clarity was being replaced with the overwhelming need to touch, feel, to experience every part of his older brother. And it felt… weird to be admiring his brother’s mouth, and his eyes, which kinda reminded him of the forests they sometimes navigated on a hunt and that one time he had gone camping over spring break with Jess, and the way his dark eyelashes fluttered against his skin every time those evergreen orbs disappeared behind eyelids. It made him want to touch them, to feel the velvety softness of his eyelids against his lips as he kissed them shut….

It was wrong, deep down he knew it, but he just couldn’t help himself. It was as if some invisible force was tugging him towards Dean inexorably, like a magnet.

And suddenly, his brother took charge.

Using the hand resting on Sam’s shoulder, Dean tugged him towards his chest and wrapped his arms around him like a vice. His right hand clung to the fabric of Sam’s t-shirt while his other hand was buried in his brother’s surprisingly soft strands of hair. _Probably uses some sort of fru fru shit_ Dean thought fondly, absentmindedly stroking the chocolate strands between his fingers.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me again, Sammy” Dean whispered brokenly into his ear.

Tears stung Sam’s eyes and he clung equally as hard to his brother’s neck and t-shirt, burying his face in the junction between Dean’s neck and shoulder. He let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as the tears in his eyes left wet marks in the fabric of Dean’s tee.

“I won’t”

Dean gave a relieved sigh that tickled the hairs on the nape of Sam’s neck, making him shudder at the electricity spreading throughout his body at the contact. Then he was falling again. But this time, his back met the semi-soft mattress of his own bed and Dean was on next to him, holding Sam close, his hand still buried in between his locks of hair. Close enough for Sam to be able to feel the thrumming of Dean’s heartbeat against his chest. The ba-dump ba-dump of that vital organ that kept his brother alive lulled him further into a state of pure ecstasy.

He had never experienced anything like that before. Sam had never felt like he belonged somewhere so much before. In all twenty six years of his life, Sam had never felt like he had a home until now. He suddenly became aware of Dean’s hands touching him all over. Rubbing his back, brushing through his hair, caressing his face, and God it felt like silk was brushing against his skin.

Sam opened his eyes, not aware that he had even closed them and saw Dean leaning in towards him. From the proximity, the alcohol on Dean’s breath made his eyes sting as Dean kissed his the faint wrinkles etched onto Sam’s forehead. His lips lingered for a short while before they made a path downwards and stopped just an inch above Sam’s own. Their noses were brushing in a parody of an eskimo kiss and they stayed that way, eyes shut and breathing in perfect sync with one another.

* * *

 

Laying there in the silence a no name hotel room on a tiny bed in the middle of Bumfuck, Tennessee, the brothers finally felt at peace with one another, all their worries and fears melted away to reveal their inner cores. Their wants and needs.

Sam felt that no matter what he did he always screwed up- with his dad, Jess, and recently Dean too. His whole life he’d been trying to prove himself, but now all those worries were starting to fade away to a mere background noise as the magnitude of what was happening enveloped him in a love he hadn’t experienced in so, so long. They kept growing fainter and fainter leaving him lighter than he’d been in years. Most of all he was in his brother’s arms again.

He had known he needed to gain his brother’s approval again…

He just hadn’t known how much he’s craved that until now

* * *

 

It tore apart everything he’s ever been taught. It crushed him to admit it, but he wouldn't, no, couldn't live again without his Sammy standing by his side. Hunting, going on and on, day by day, the family business. Call it selfishness, codependency, whatever, it doesn't matter all he knows is that without him he doesn't have a cause much less a reason to keep on carrying the crosses he’s been carrying with him his whole life. Demons be damned. A bullet would be easier to bear. He didn't give a fuck right now about the rules or the significance or even the goddamn technicalities, not now when he was being held so close; as if their bodies were molded as one being , teetering on the edge about to fall into everything he’s always ever wanted….

To be loved

* * *

“Bitch” Dean uttered under his breath

He could feel Sam smile against his skin.

“Jerk”

* * *

 

**“And In That Moment, I Swear We Were Infinite”**

**\- The Perks of Being a Wallflower**

**Author's Note:**

> This my first story! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated (esp. constructive criticism- NO FLAMES)   
> Hugs and kisses to you all


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